


breathes taken, one step at a time.

by Prettything_uglylie



Series: fictober 2020 [7]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Artist Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, BDSM Scene, Bondage, Bottom Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Smut, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani and Nicky | Nicolò di Genova Acting Like a Married Couple, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani and Nicky | Nicolò di Genova are in Love, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani is an Incurable Romantic, Kissing, Light BDSM, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Romance, Safe Sane and Consensual, Soft Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Subspace, Top Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, What Happened in Malta (The Old Guard), they're cute rip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:28:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26878195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prettything_uglylie/pseuds/Prettything_uglylie
Summary: The sound of scratching charcoal on canvas paper fills the room, creating a rhythm that helps relax Nicolo's shaking thighs and his on-edge body; Nicolo had been stripped with precise and gentle hands only worn that of his lover's digits, stripped and tied and kissed until his lips swelled and healed then swelled again.-- what happened in Malta. (aka my second version of That Time In Malta)
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: fictober 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954993
Comments: 10
Kudos: 161





	breathes taken, one step at a time.

**Author's Note:**

> i..really love this fic tbh? i hope you like it too!

**Malta, 1894.**

The sound of scratching charcoal on canvas paper fills the room, creating a rhythm that helps relax Nicolo's shaking thighs and his on-edge body; Nicolo had been stripped with precise and gentle hands only worn that of his lover's digits, stripped and tied and kissed until his lips swelled and healed then swelled again. 

_'Nico,'_ Joseph had whispered against his lips, both attempting to appropriate the names given to them for this country, for this time period, for these people and Nicolo di Genova had to swallow down his surprise - it is rare Yusuf calls him anything but Nicolo or _habibi_ or _my heart_ or _darling_ in the bedroom, no matter the place. 

_'Joseph.'_ He had replied with a coy smile and his husband had flinched, looking less thrilled than he had when he said the Italian man's new name, and Nicky had reached a steady hand up to brush over the broad bone of his face gently before asking, _'You don't like your name?'_

It had sounded peculiar to his mouth even then. 

Yusuf had smiled and Nicky was smitten with the curve of his eyes, the gentleness of his face, the whiteness of his teeth, before he had clarified, _'I want you to call me by my name...can you do that?'_

He nodded, more than willing to do that but the thought tickled at his mind, left him confused and unsatisfied so he asked, _'You like the name Nico though?'_

Joe smiled again, leaning in to kiss him fiercely after whispering, _'I like **you**.'_

His back arches with the memory of it, the feel of Joe's lips on his own and then he keens at the pull of his wrists and ankles, tied almost to one another where he lies on their plush mattress with his stomach face down and binded with his body in what someone could describe as a _hog-tie_. Joe had made it feel much gentler than its crass name, wrapping the limbs in the thick rope down to his wrists and then to wrap his ankles in it with careful easing strokes and gentle words before whispering, _"Finito, cuore mio."_

That had been...too long ago for Nicolo who had remained tied taut in the plush foam of their mattress as the sound of his lover's pencil scratches across his paper, before he praises for the tenth time of the night, "You're beautiful, Nicolo." 

It's the tenth time but it still makes Nicky keen and squirm where he's tied up, his chest flushing dark and they both know he can break the bonds but there's no effort to, loving the feeling of being stuck too much and of being under Joe's watch. 

He lifts his face from the mattress a bit and really takes his husband in, a man built of his own honor, his body poised with confidence and laying sprawled across the chair with his feet on an ottoman. All-powerful. 

Nicolo di Genova, a priest from a time before, has never known a God quite as well as the man he loves. 

His eyes or his face must be a certain layer of desperate because with a tilted head, his husband takes him in carefully, "Nicolo." 

He receives a bit of thrashing around in response but his smile is serene as he finishes, "Would you like me to fuck you now, Nico?" 

With the desperation brought by dehydrated men in the desert asking for a cup of water, Nicky nods and nods as well as he can with his cheek pressed into the mattress, face flushed against the sheets with what must be both lust and a bit of embarrassment - no matter how many times they do this, he never gets used to Joe drawing him. 

Especially not in this type of vulnerable position. 

Joe smiles, something that lights up his features and makes his whole face look more relaxed with his eyes glinting in something akin to fondness that makes Nicky's breathing catch in his chest. 

His cadence is languid, stretching through the air in the room between them and teasing softer than the sheets he lays across, "You're desperate for me." 

It isn't a question - it's the intimacy brought on by years of destiny fated kisses, of desperate nights mashing moans into each other's mouths so Booker or Andy wouldn't hear them, it's the love in the way their bodies mold together perfectly, built for battle and for one another. 

It isn't a question but Nicky's breath gets stuck in his throat anyways. 

It isn't a question - he's been desperate for Joe since they were staring each other down in a battlefield, sprayed in blood and confused as to why they were still alive, and it's never ended since then. 

He keens, pushing back into the professionalism of Joe's hands with a needy noise that he knows probably makes Joe smile, and his cock twitches at the idea of Joe's smile. It is such a bizarre thing to have a sexual reaction to, he considers, but with the brimming tiers and the gentle joy in his eyes, it's hard not to. _They're almost disgustingly smitten with one another,_ Nicky remembers Andy telling Booker, and he had felt little shame in it, knowing her to be telling the truth. 

Joe thumbs apart his cheeks, seeing the hole he already readily prepared with three fingers, proper lubricant, and his mouth first, before he murmurs, "Can I take you, Nico? Or do you need more preparation?" 

He's so carefully tender, even when they're both so desperate for one another, but no, Joe will take the time to stop and make sure he still feels comfortable with going even further. It makes him mad, it makes him fond, it makes him insane for him. 

"Pl..." He swallows, attempting to form words coherently, "Please...fuck me." 

Joe smiles, he can feel it in the air, before he begins to strip by the rustle of clothes behind him, but he continues to talk, "I'm going to marry you, Nicolo." 

It makes him jerk, makes him feel feral and he already knows if he wasn't tied down, he would have flipped them over and would have ridden him until they were both groaning and sweating and needy for each other. 

It's a promise that makes him insane despite the endless numbers of proposals they've never been able to fill in other countries - can't fill them here or anywhere else either. 

Their love is outlawed but the promises of _someday_ makes it feel easier to deal with. 

The thick head of Joe's cock presses into his rim suddenly but does not immediately push in, just waits as though Nicky is not pushing back, attempting to get it inside of him, aching for the feeling, while Joe sits behind him, smiling and waiting. He shoves hard enough that he mumbles an 'ow' from the pull of the restraints around his bound arms that makes Joe chuckle and goosebumps appear all over his body, "going to put a ring on that finger..." 

He presses into him, finally allowing Nicky to take more of him but the hand on his flank is reassuring that the ease of Joe inside of him will go just as well - he's taken him too many times for it not to. Joe gives off the happiest energy Nicolo has ever felt as he leans forward, pressing a kiss to the rope binding across his shoulder, "...make an honest man of you after all." 

He sinks to the base, making Nico groan loudly into their pillows and making Joe roll his hips eagerly, knowing that when he does that, it sends tingles of pleasure all throughout his body and makes him louder than he's ever been. Joe rolls his hips again, hitting the bundle of nerve endings that make Nicky feral, that makes him animalistic in a way, and cry out into their pillows, "'m sure you're practically going to cum just thinking about that." 

"My...my mouth..." He murmurs, barely aware of it but also desperate with the urge for it, "Put your fingers in my mouth?" 

It's a question but it doesn't have to be - Nicky knows Joe would do anything for him, least of all putting his fingers in his mouth while they have sex but there is a moment of hesitation that makes Nicky nervous, worried if he's asking too much of him before Joe states, "I'd love to, habibi...there's charcoal on my fingers." 

"Better." Nicky gasps out, knowing that he will be able to taste the passion of his art, can taste the work held in the palm of his hand, and all of that effort and affection palatable? It's almost too good to be true. 

"Nico," Joseph chuckles out, likely amused by just how eager the younger man is before continuing, trying to talk him out of irrational thoughts such as this but Nicky can feel him grow harder inside of him at the thought, "We don't even know if it's toxic." 

He does. He asked when Joe was procuring it and despite the confused expression, he got the answer that in small amounts it isn't lethal but if ingesting great amounts, it can make the person sick. 

He shakes his head before admitting, "I asked, it's not. Please, Yusuf, _per_ _favor_." 

It seems to do Joe in, holding out his pointer and middle finger as he begins to thrust in steady and firm jabs to his prostate and Nicky uses the chance to eagerly wrap his mouth around Joe's charcoal-covered digits. 

He moans at the taste, slightly salty and metallic when he runs his tongue over the whorls on the expanse of his fingers, feeling the skin begin to give and get gentle due to his mouth. His tongue begins to wrap around Joe's fingers like his mouth is working at something else on his love's body rather than his fingers. 

Joe's thrusts speed up, determined to knock the air from his lungs in a way that makes Nicky thrust back into him and he whimpers out around his fingers at a particularly hard thrust. Joe chuckles, sending chills through Nicky's core before murmuring out teasingly, "Like that, Nico?" 

He groans, something about the _not quite right_ of the name feeling erotically degrading and the position enough to make him wild but Joe seems to catch the same feelings, pulling Nicolo's hips back into him with his free hand before rolling his hips into his own. 

Joe feels _bigger_ like this - an impressive feat considering his already large size but with how fully filled he is, he could plead that he had upheld his chastity vow to whatever God listens to them. It's the angle, he knows, but his romantic heart spins how at every twist and turn, in every way, they match and mold into one another, creating a perfect soul, creating one real life. 

Nicky cums at the thought, a romantic through and through, completely undone and when he jolts, tongue still thick with the taste of metals and saliva likely dark with the mix of charcoal. He lathers the digits with his spit as Joe removes them, a final wish, a final goodbye ringing like an affectionate kiss. 

Joe gives a harsh thrust into his spent body at the act, control torn to pieces by the devotion of it before he allows Nico to lay pliant against the sheets, moving him to lay back on his tied arms - Nicky does not feel the pain of it, all he feels is white-hot pleasure and satisfaction burning through him.

He wants to beg Joe to use him, he realizes suddenly, wants to tell him to for the sake of his body but Joe's hand has wrapped around his own cock, stroking harshly as he regards Nicky stretched out on his back before him. 

It makes Nicky blush, feeling uniquely vulnerable and entirely worshipped, which is beyond bizarre to him but he recognizes devotion in his lover's eyes and that's all it is. Devoted hunger, with no malicious intent or anything terribly perverted. 

Nicky feels safe under Joe's eyes. Even with his arms tied behind his back beneath him. 

"Yusuf," he murmurs, looking at him from heavy-lidded eyes and then, using his little strength to lift his hips up and ask, "Please." 

It makes Joe cum, predictably and he places his forehead against the gentle beat of Nicky's heart, head to heart in a reverse of who they are as people and Joe seems calmed by the feeling. Nicky allows it until his arms go numb which may have already happened and he's just become aware of it or may have taken minutes or may have taken hours, he doesn't know.

But Joe seems to, sitting up on his heels to gently pull Nicolo into a sitting position, his forehead rested upon Yusuf's shoulder and he nips the flesh between his shoulder and neck playfully which makes his love laugh. It's a ridiculous, tired noise that makes Nicolo feel warm all through his body before he is scolded, "Gentle, Nicolo. I'm getting older." 

"Too old." He pretends to agree, voice still hoarse and he finally really tastes the charcoal in his mouth and willing his own mind, swallows it shakily, certain it will be less bad that way, "Blegh." 

"Charcoal?" Yusuf asks, removing the art of the bondage from his arms with careful hands and Nicky nods before mimicking throwing up and with a final unlacing, Joe throws him back onto the bed. 

"Not on me." He laughs, joking towards the vomit that does not come and Nicky laughs, moving his arms to make circles and stretch his shoulders out properly. Joe watches him with those love-smitten eyes before asking, "All right, Nicolo?" 

"Yeah." He agrees softly, allowing himself to be pulled into a tight little spoon by Yusuf before admitting, voice lavish with amusement, "I think I like Malta." 

Yusuf's answering laugh could keep him warm on the days where even the sun could not find them, could keep him warm for eternities to come and like a fool, he hopes for it. 

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you liked this! kudos and comments are a joe to my nicky!!


End file.
